A New Shepard
by Serph Bravin
Summary: A retelling of the Mass Effect series, based on the premise of (mostly) not following the dialogue choices and other limitations from Bioware. T-rating for now, may be raised in the future


**Author's Note: ** This series will have three goals:  
1: Not to give a confusing or hate-inducing ending to the trilogy**  
**2: Garrus + M!Shep. Because that interests me.  
3: To not constantly read like I just copy-pasted the script Bioware used to make the game.

Not sure if I'll succeed, but the review option is there to tell me. But if by some immensely unlikely probability I do fail to make a perfect fic, please be more constructive than "THIS FIC SUCKS, TAKE IT DOWN, YOU WASTE OF PROTIEN". Tell me which bits were wrong, and I'll revise this chapter, and apply the knowledge to future chapters, and by the time we get to ME3 I will have become FanFic Buddha, which will be wonderful for everyone.

* * *

Commander Shepard looked out of the tiny view-ports in the cockpit of the Normandy, a giddy grin on his face as he watched the wreathing lights that signified their jump from the relay. As soon his rank allowed him free roam of a ship, he'd always made sure to get a front row seat when they used the Mass Relays; he found the light show to be almost hypnotic. For a few seconds after they decelerated from the jump, Shepard continued to stare out of the windows, before returning to the present as he noticed their pilot rattling off the last few notes of the post-jump checks.

"-drift is... under 1500K." Joker finished, receiving a satisfied huff from the turian that lingered just behind the Commander.

"1500 is good. Your captain will be pleased." Nihlus said before turning around and leaving the cockpit. Shepard shuddered slightly as the alien left; the Spectre had been tailing him up and down the ship since he'd come on board, and it was getting more than a little creepy to turn around and see that dark, plated face so close to his own.

"I hate that guy." Joker said as he watched the turian leave.

"Nihlus pays you a compliment, so you hate him?" came a voice from one of the co-pilots chairs; Kaiden Alenko. Shepard hadn't even spotted the man in the chair when he'd come up, too focused on getting to see the relay jump, and he grimaced as he mentally reprimanded himself; that was the sort of inattention that got soldiers killed.  
"If that was a compliment, Nihlus doesn't know much about making a Relay jump." Shepard interjected. "Most pilots would think getting closer than 1500 kilometres to the target of the jump in a ship with this mass would be impossible." He might have been exaggerating a little, but there was no doubt that Joker had made a cleaner jump than most pilots ever would.

Joker chuckled, nodding in appreciation. "Not to mention he's a Spectre. Those guys are bad news. Call me paranoid..."

"You're paranoid." Kaiden quipped, looking a little too happy at being able to make such a obvious joke. "After all the money the council put into this ship, I say they're allowed to send someone to watch over their investment."

Shepard shook his head at that. "This is meant to just be a test of the stealth systems, right? If you want to protect that, you don't send an assassin, you send some other ships to watch over the test ship."

Kaiden opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the comms flaring to life, carrying the voice of Captain Anderson. "Joker. Report." his voice was sharp and clipped, either indicating his stern-ness as commanding officer, or his dislike for Mr. Moreau. At the moment, Shepard couldn't tell which.

"Just passed through the relay, sir. Stealth systems are engaged and the board is green."

"Good. Patch us into a comm buoy; I want reports back to Alliance HQ _before _we reach Eden Prime."

"Yes, Sir. Might want to watch out, Sir, Nihlus was headed down your way."

"He's _already here_, Joker. Send Commander Shepard down to the comm room for debriefing. Anderson out."

Shepard had to smirk as he watched Jokers face blanch slightly as he realised he'd humiliated himself. "Better luck next time." he said, patting the pilots shoulder before turning and heading out of the cockpit, down to the comm room, ignoring the navigator's comm call to engineering, trying not to eavesdrop, but hearing enough to know they were talking about Nihlus. He did stop however, when one of the soldiers next to the entrance of the comm room saluted him, breaking off from his discussion with the ships doctor specifically to do so. Shepard sighed inside at the blatant attention grabbing manoeuvre. "Private Jenkins, wasn't it?" he asked, only half sure he'd matched the face to the right name, relieved when the man nodded. "Did you want something soldier?"

"Well, it's just... I'd like to know when we'd get to see some real action, sir." Shepard grimaced as he realised the sort of person Jenkins was, and it was clear the doctor shared the sentiment, judging by the sharp laugh she gave.

"Every mission is real action, soldier." he said, trying to evade the question, but it was clear that Jenkins was having none of it.

"This is just a shakedown run! I joined the Alliance Military to defend humanity, not to babysit ships out in the back-end of the galaxy!"

"I must apologise, commander." the doctor cut in, Shepard racking his brains for a name. "I'm afraid Jenkins here has been watching a few too many action vids, in my opinion." Shaky? No, it was Chakwas, or something weird like that, wasn't it? Yes, Dr. Chakwas.

"Enthusiasm is all well and good, but every mission has a purpose, Jenkins." Shepard said firmly, trying his best to hammer his message into a mind that was no doubt mush from tall tales of heroics and glory. "Don't go rushing into the fire fight, alright? Dying for the sake of the alliance is still dying. Make it count. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see the captain." He finished, pressing between the doctor and private, not wanting to get dragged into the discussion any further, and he could hear the two start bickering almost as soon as he passed through the door to the comm room.

For a moment, he almost felt like he could let out a sigh of relief, but what he saw made his lungs freeze again. Nihlus was the only one in the room, staring at what looked like tourism videos for some holiday resort.  
"I was hoping you'd get here first." Nihlus said without turning around. "I'd like some time to talk."

"About what?" Shepard asked warily, moving down towards the main platform of the room.

"They say it's beautiful, this planet we're going to." the turian said, finally turning around, the hologram of green fields, beaches and prefab housing winking out of existence.

"I've never been." Shepard said simply.

"But you know of it, don't you? Eden Prime has become a symbol to your people; the first step to colonising the Traverse. But how safe is it?" Shepard narrowed his eyes as his suspicions grew, the turian flaring his mandibles in what might have been a grin. "The galaxy is a big place, and the traverse is one of the more dangerous. If something happens, will you be able to stand against it?"  
"What do you know, Spectre?" Shepard growled, almost spitting the turian's title like an insult.

"Perhaps it's time for us to tell the Commander our real mission?" came a voice from behind Shepard. It wasn't as sharp as it had been before, almost warm now, but it was undeniably the voice of Captain Anderson, the dark-skinned man walking down the entrance hall to stand beside Nihlus by the projectors.

"Real mission?" Shepard asked. "I was wondering why we needed a Spectre to test out a cloaking device."

"We're making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime. Normally, we'd simply use one of the scheduled transports and keep the payload off the records, but the nature of our target needs something with a bit more fire-power to keep guard of it, and the development of the stealth drive makes the Normandy the best choice to prevent a fire fight from even starting."

"What could possibly require not only a fully armed warship, but one that can't be detected, with a god-damned _Council Spectre_ on board, _just for transport_!?" Shepard asked incredulously, earning a glower from both Anderson and Nihlus.

"Have you heard of the Protheans, Shepard?" asked Nihlus, his voice kept surprisingly level after Shepard's outburst. "You're going to pick up what appears to be one of their beacons."

Shepard frowned at that, calming down swiftly as the true weight of their mission becoming apparent. A Prothean beacon would contain the knowledge from the greatest civilisation the galaxy had ever know, right at it's peak. The knowledge contained in the machine could be anything; maps of unexplored areas of relay network, scientific reports on how Element Zero enable mass to be rewritten, blueprints for an EMP weapon that could eliminate the defences of entire fleets... Or maybe it could contain a letter from a soldier writing home to his family. No doubt the historians would still call even that "The greatest breakthrough in centuries." for it's 'revelations on prothean social structure'

"I assume no one's tried to activate it?" Shepard asked

"From the reports the dig team who unearthed it sent us, it's completely different to what was found on Mars. They wouldn't even know where to start." Anderson answered. Shepard nodded slightly, his face furrowed in concentration, already plotting out potential removal strategies from what little he'd been told. "There's another reason Nihlus is accompanying us, Shepard." Anderson said, interrupting the Commander's train of thought. "Though from your reactions so far, I'm not sure you'll like it."

Before Shepard could question further, Nihlus answered his questions. "You've been nominated to become the First Human Spectre." he said, the inflection of the last three words making it clear that this was something very important, for not just the council, but the Human Alliance.

"With all due respect, Sirs, I'm an engineer. I solve practical problems, on the battlefield. My job is to make sure our men have more gun than the enemy. I do not solve political problems, skulking around secret bases on scenic shorelines while some evil genius waves a nuke around above my head." While this earned a small chuckle from Anderson, Nihlus was still the image of unerring focus.

"The job of a Spectre isn't just subterfuge, Shepard. If you prove yourself worthy on this, and the next string of missions with me, you will be inducted as a Spectre, becoming a gun for the council. If you're worried about your skills being put to waste, I'm sure you could nudge the aim from the back doors to the front. Maybe even form some sort of team, like on those action vids your people keep making. After all, the shooter of a gun can't control the bullet once it sets off towards it's target, and the council cannot dictate our actions in the field."

Shepard grunted, not entirely satisfied, but enough to stop complaining about his personal situation. "I suppose this would be a boon to the Alliance?" he asked, looking towards Anderson, trying not to pout.

"It's the first step to getting a place on the council." the captain answered with a nod. "If you're accepted, it would be as big a point in human history as when we discovered the relay buried in Pluto's moon."

"Captain, we've got a problem." Joker's voice rang around the room, echoing slightly as it was fed through the comms.

"What's wrong Joker?" Asked Anderson, looking towards the holographic projectors as they flared into life.

"It's a transmission from Eden Prime, Sir; an SOS. I'm patching it through to the comm room, if you're still there."

The projected screen flickered, showing a landscape eerily similar to the images Nihlus had been viewing earlier, with a few key differences. The sky in the video was black rather than the blue of the photos, full of smoke, the camera shaking around wildly before focusing briefly on a woman in white body armour, firing at something off screen, before the camera began shaking around again, rushing over indistinct figures and blue lights, more soldiers firing, then the face of a man, most of his features obscured by the shaky camera and his helmet.

"We are under attack! Taking heavy casualties! We need evac, now!" He began to repeat his message, before collapsing, presumably shot by the attackers. The camera began to pan wildly again; soldiers; explosions; faces of terror. And then something new came into view. Descending from the sky was what could only be a ship, if only because it wasn't crashing. The black body was still hidden by thick clouds of smoke, but what could be seen could be compared to a giant hand; a number of jointed appendages hanging from the end of the body, slowly flexing, wreathed in red lightning. It was visible for less than a second before the camera moved on, showing soldiers who had previously been standing were now dead, the ground exploding around the camera man, more soldiers dying, and finally, what was either the death of the cameraman, or his loss of the camera, as the view crumpled to the floor, on it's side, watching one last soldier valiantly firing at his targets before he was hidden by a shower of earth exploding around him, leaving only an unpleasant mess once the debris settled. Then, there was just static.

"The transmission keeps going, but it's all been static, no clear images or sounds. No other signals either." Joker reported after a few moments, snapping the three out of their shock.

"Joker. Show us the ship again." Anderson ordered, his voice measured, but cold, belying a hidden anger as the black hand filled the screen again. No one spoke, simply looking at the still image, taking in the details they hadn't been able to before, trying in vain to determine what exactly they were looking at, and if it truly was as immense as it seemed.

"Joker, are there any other ships in the area?"  
"No Sir. We're 10 minutes out, closest ship that wasn't on-planet is1 hour."

Captain Anderson sighed. "Very well. Shepard; get Alenko and Jenkins suited up and ready to drop. You will retrieve the beacon at all costs. If you can save the colony as well, do so, but the beacon is your priority, is that understood?" Shepard nodded, saluted and left the comm room.

For more than a month, that was his last clear memory until he woke up in the med bay.

* * *

**Another Author's Note: **(Yes, another one.)  
So, now's your chance to tell me what you thought. Go to that little box down there and type out what you liked and didn't like. If you spotted a major error that I need to correct, please say so, and I will change it. If you would like to complain about Captain Anderson failing to request an arbitrary time-stamp to get Joker to show the footage of Sovereign again, a monkey will be mailed to you. Pet the monkey. Feed it a banana or two. Introduce the monkey to your wife and children. Allow it 3 minutes to play with your family. If this fails to provide a solution to your complaint, kindly ask yourself how Anderson was able to recall the exact half-second Sovereign was on screen without any kind of watch or visible timestamp on the feed. Because I don't know how he could've done it either, so I made him not do it.

Next chapter is being written as you read this (Or maybe it's already uploaded and I just haven't edited this line out.)


End file.
